


Grumpy Beginnings

by starsung



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, I Tried, Idk what happened, Idk where im going with this, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Teen Romance, This Was Supposed To Be A One Shot, but i just had to write something, im sorry if you dont laugh, shitty attempt at humor, theres a lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsung/pseuds/starsung
Summary: Chan is exhausted. Woojin thinks he’s an asshole.In other words, their first two meetings are complete disasters, but third time’s the charm, right?





	Grumpy Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> hi. so this is my second time uploading this fic, because 1. anxiety is a bitch, and 2. i just didn't like what i had before. most of it is the same, like the title and major plot points etc. so if you read this before, tho i doubt you have, and youre like oh yeah i remember some of this thats why. but anyways, hello and welcome to the shitfest that is my writing, i hope you have fun on this ride. this is my first time ever writing a fanfic so ples be gentle in your criticzing, although i do appreciate constructive criticism like if you actually have valid concerns please tell me. and i am going to try and upload once a week but finals are coming up and i really need to study even tho i already know im going to fuCKING FAIL. so yeah, thats all i have to say sorry that was so long i kinda just word vomited everywhere. have fun~~

To say that Chan felt tired was a huge understatement. He had been up non-stop for almost 48 hours, running entirely on spite, energy drinks, and noodles from the convenience store at corner of his apartment building. 

 

Chan needed to produce a song, for the upcoming showcase evaluations. And, he was stuck. It seemed like every beat, rhythm, or instrumental he added sounded wrong. It didn’t help when the only people he could ask for help, or god forbid, an opinion, had the attention span of one goldfish.

 

Enter Changbin and Jisung, two kids who he had taken under his wing when they were fresh out of high school with high hopes and big dreams. Their talent and knowledge in rapping and songwriting exceeded all the other trainees, but sometimes they tended to get a little distracted, to say the least. Their time together in the studio was usually filled with Changbin’s closeted gay whining about the new Australian trainee whose voice, “...shouldn’t be legal! I mean, he has no business going around with cheeks that I wanna squish and acting all cute, and then attacking me that deep-ass voice that sounds like it belongs at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.” 

 

“Language.” Chan chided, a few seconds too late. 

 

“At least, you don’t have to deal with Minho-hyung constantly sending you mixed messages...” complained Jisung. Minho was another trainee who was sort of known as a gay legend among the trainees. Of course, none of the other trainees knew for sure, but everyone had their suspicions. 

 

“Like, one second, he’s glaring at me for accidentally taking a drink out of his water bottle, and the next he’s whining in my ear about how much he misses me! Like what the fuck dude, do you like me or not?” Jisung rambles. 

 

“Language!” Chan scolded, a little louder this time. 

 

“Hyung, you swear more than the both of us combined. Should you really be saying that?” Changbin asked with a flat tone. Chan’s protests died down as soon as they started, knowing there was no use arguing with Changbin over something that wasn’t even accurate. 

 

(It was.) 

 

“Whatever, are you both going to keep brooding about your rainbow adventures of the day or are you actually gonna help me?” Chan asked, his voice bounced off the walls - dull and almost lifeless. 

 

“Actually, hyung... Felix asked us if we wanted to sneak out to the convenience store on the corner, with Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin. Sorry.” Changbin listed off, not sounding sorry at all. 

 

“And, Changbin hyung’s too whipped to say no,” Jisung teased, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “But we really are sorry, we know you’ve been working yourself to the bone.” The worry in Jisung’s voice kind of bothered Chan. He didn’t want to annoy the kids with unnecessary things. 

 

“It’s okay, go have fun, I’ll see you two at home,” Chan said with a soft smile forming on his face, trying to put Jisung’s unease to rest. 

 

“Thank you so much hyung, we promise we’ll work twice as hard tomorrow!” yelled Changbin, already halfway out the door. 

 

Their voices slowly faded out of range, and Chan let out a heavy sigh. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get any work done without the background noise of Jisung and Changbin’s bickering. As much as they annoyed the shit out of him, he loved the idiots. Yeah, they got on his nerves, but they held a special spot in his heart. After all, they were only kids, who he had watched as they put their childhoods on pause to chase their dreams. While other kids were experiencing all their firsts, they were stuck in practice rooms studying melodies, and arrangements, or they were practicing dance moves until their feet bled and their bodies became numb. Chan shook his head, brushing off his thoughts, before he started to tear up.

 

He made his way out of his studio, and towards the bus stop near the JYP building. He let out a series of huge yawns, ones that made his eyes water at the corners. He sluggishly pulled out his headphones, before wincing. His hand had started to cramp again. With all of the hunching over keyboards and tinkering away at the raw arrangements that were stored in his laptop, it was no wonder that his hands spasmed as often as they did. Maybe I should get some medication or something, Chan thought to himself. 

 

The screeching of the bus, pulled the rapper out of his thoughts. He stepped on the bus and showed the driver his bus pass. It was 12:30, so the bus was empty, save for a couple other stragglers. He plopped down on a seat, near the middle, and let out a series of huge yawns. 

 

Before he knew it, the bus arrived at his stop, and in all honesty, Chan probably gets up too fast, eager to get home to his own bed. So, when his vision blacks out, and his body practically crumples to the ground, the only thought going through his head is, 

 

Fuck.

 

 

 

____________________________ 

 

 

 

Chan groaned and blinked a few times, thoughts racing in a blind panic. His head immediately throbbed, and he grimaced at the pain. 

 

“Hey- hey, kid you can’t go around dying in my bus. I can’t afford that shit.” 

 

The bus driver’s face became clearer in Chan’s eyesight, and he shot up to his feet, assuring himself that it would be fine. 

 

It was not fine. His head started throbbing and his surroundings blurred at the edges. The young producer’s hand shot out to grab onto the nearest bus seat before he fell on his ass again.

 

“Dude, relax.” The driver put a calming hand on Chan’s shoulder, standing up from his previous crouching position. He didn’t look much older than Chan. Maybe a few years older? Chan thinks. Probably late twenties. “You okay though? That was a pretty nasty fall,” the driver asks in concern. 

 

“Yeah, I- I’m fine. Just a little sore,” Chan replies, rubbing the part of his head that had hit the bus floor. 

 

“Alright, this is your stop ain’t it? Sorry for being an asshole, but I still have a few stops left, and I need this job.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Chan assured, as he stood up, picking up his bag and phone. And, he really did. The other man was one of the many, many people- including Chan- who had been forced to give up sleep, and having a life, in order to make a living. 

 

Shit, it was already 1 am, he realized. At this point he might’ve been able to get 5-6 hours of sleep, if he was lucky. 

 

“Thanks, for helping me.” Chan said, looking back at the driver once he got off the bus. 

 

“No problem, kid.” The bus driver tipped his snapback and nodded, pressing on the pedal, until the bus gained enough speed to leave Chan’s vision. 

 

 

 

____________________________ 

 

 

 

As Chan turned the key into his apartment door, he pressed the skin under his eyes. His cold fingers providing a much-needed relief to his heated skin. He threw his keys onto the kitchen counter. The sound seemed to echo in the empty apartment. 

 

He entered the room he shared with the other kids, finding them sound asleep. Chan crossed the short distance between the door and the bunk bed they were lying in. He carefully pulled the sheets up to cover Changbin’s small frame. Chan took out a pair of clean clothes, and walked as quietly as he could to the bathroom down the hall. He let out another heavy sigh, as he stared at his worn-out reflection. His skin looked paler than usual, making his dark eyebags stand out even more. Relief washed over him in waves, when he finally changed out of his stiff jeans, and into his basketball shorts.

 

Chan made his way into bed, shivering as the cold sheets made contact with his overheated body. He closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep. His head was still swimming with random thoughts, jumping from one thing to another within a second. He twisted and turned, trying to get comfortable. His eyes shot open. The rapper flopped onto his side, watching his alarm clock blink mockingly at him. 

 

 

 

1:20. 

 

 

 

1:20. 

 

 

 

1:20. 

 

 

 

1:21. 

 

 

 

1:21. 

 

 

 

1:21. 

 

 

 

An hour later, and Chan had had enough. No matter what he did he couldn't fall to fucking sleep. His brain just wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He tried counting sheep, he tried listening to calming music, he even tried drinking milk. 

 

Chan hated drinking milk. 

 

So, he ended up on his laptop, trying to finish the song he had been stuck on. Of course, nothing was working, and the track just sounded bad. He was ready to rip his hair out, when he heard Jisung's hoarse voice cutting through the quiet sounds coming from his headphones. 

 

"Hyung, it’s 2:00 in the fucking morning, what the hell are you doing still awake?" Jisung rubbed his eyes, as Chan turned to look at him. His soft blonde hair was adorably sticking up on one side, making whatever cusses Chan was about to let out die on the tip of his tongue. 

 

"I was working on this track. It's okay, kiddo, go back to sleep." Chan's dad voice kicking in. 

 

(He knew Jisung was going to get whiny and cranky in the morning if he didn’t get enough beauty sleep.) 

 

"It's not okay, hyung. You haven't been sleeping, and you're pretty much made out of redbull at this point." Jisung said, sitting up in his own bed. 

 

“I know Jisung, I just have to finish this track then I’ll try to get some sleep, okay?” Chan hoped Jisung wouldn’t recognize the tiredness in his voice. 

 

“Alright, hyung,” Jisung sounded unconvinced, “but I just want you to know that we appreciate everything you do for us. I hope you realize that you don’t need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. There are a lot of people who can, and want, to help you, if you would let us.” 

 

Chan watched as Jisung’s breathing evened out, wondering when the awkward kid he knew, the one who tripped over his own feet, and choked on air while talking, grew up so much. 

 

He knew Jisung was right. He knew that he had a lot of friends that would give up anything to let him rest, even for just one second. 

 

There was Felix, his Aussie mate. The one who he could rely on, when the homesickness hit hard, and he missed his mother’s warm embrace and his dad’s wise advice. The one who listened to him reminisce about the days where he could lay on the soft grass under the sun’s rays without a worry in the world..

 

There was Hyunjin, his own koala bear. The one who knew exactly how to help him understand his confusing feelings and thoughts. The one who he could talk to about his crush on the new male trainee, without the fear of being judged. The one who always had a hug ready for when he was feeling down. The one who always knew what he needed. 

 

There was Minho, his partner in crime. The one who he could be himself around without any restrictions. The one who he could make weird faces and random sounds with. The one who taught him how to take a proper selfie, while laughing at his bad attempts.

 

There was Seungmin, his savage child. The one who he could judge other people with. The one who would silently pass him a water bottle when he saw him sweating and panting. The one who would grab his hand and force him to take a nap when he was on the edge of passing out from exhaustion.

 

There was Jeongin, his future protégé. The one who was a blank page, brimming with endless potential. The one who he wanted to see succeed so bad that it physically hurt. The one who would make him panic with insuppressible worry when he acted like a little shit, and accidentally hurt himself. 

 

And, then there was Jisung and Changbin, probably the only ones who had seen Chan at his very worst. They were the ones who helped him up, when he couldn’t support himself. They were the ones who had watched him take hit after hit after hit. They were the ones who knew him better than he knew himself. They were the ones who were there for him when no one else was. They were the first ones who he had let into the walls he had built around himself after moving to Korea. They were the first ones he had trusted, after the people he had called family broke him.

 

This was his family, and law be damned if something happened to them.


End file.
